No Place Like Home
by XXforget-x-me-x-notXX
Summary: Stan is back in South Park after college, and a lot has changed.
1. Home

I collapsed on the bathroom floor, and everything was spinning. I wanted to grab onto something to steady myself, but I was sure that my hands would fail me. I felt so nauseous. Either I was about to throw up, or I just had. I honestly wasn't completely sure. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone truly process what was happening around me.

There was light knock on the door. Or at least, I think there was. I kept being unsure until I heard a voice through the door. "Stan? You doing okay, bro?"

"I'm good," I answered, my words slurring together. "Jus' go back to the party, don' worry about me."

Kenny opened the door. "Dude, can you even form real words right now?"

I leaned against the wall, and brought my hand to my face. "I don' feel so good"

"God, drink much, Stan? What've you been doing in college?"

I chuckled. "Work."

"Well, that's just not what college is for."

The room started folding in upon itself, the colors blending and the walls caving over. I just got home after graduating from University of Denver, and Kenny insists on taking me to a party to celebrate. This probably wasn't a good idea. I wanted to un-drink those beers, un-drink those shots. Some celebration. "I shouldn't 've taken those last shots, dude…"

Kenny laughed. "See, this is why you should've partied more at school. You would've figured out your limits."

"Ugh. No party. No alcohol. Why" I whined.

"You'll feel better when you get to a bed," he replied, throwing my arm over his shoulders and propping me up. He half dragged me around, and I heard the loud music and people talking. I'm pretty sure someone came and asked Kenny if he needed any help, but I was almost passed out already.

Kenny dropped me on a bed- presumably Craig's, since it was his house- and threw a blanket over me. "You gonna be okay?"

"I think so," I mumbled, drifting away already.

He moved the trashcan next to the bed. "Just use this if you need to throw up. See you tomorrow, alright?"

"Kay" And then I was out.

I was awoken by the sun shining directly on my face. I tried to turn away from it, only to realize that I had a splitting headache. The movement hadn't helped, so now I was awake, still nauseous, and my head was pounding. I lay there for a while longer, hoping I'd just go back to sleep and not wake up until it had gotten dark again.

I don't know how long I lay there. It must've been a while, because the sun appeared to have moved away from me. My mouth was completely dry. I don't remember ever being this thirsty in my life. But I just knew if I stood up, I'd either puke or my headache would bring me right back down. I tried counting down from ten several times to motivate myself to stand. I intended to get up when it got to one, but that just didn't seem to be happening.

I swear, I was so close to getting up, I was just about to. Then the door swung open.

"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Kenny said, in the cheeriest voice I have ever heard from him.

I groaned and shoved my face into the pillow. "Go away," I said, my voice muffled.

"That's not very nice, Stan. I brought you water!" He said, acting overly offending.

"Water?" I said weakly into the pillow.

"Yes, but you have to lean up to get it," he replied, sitting next to me on the bed.

I leaned up slowly, propping myself up on my arm. My head started pounding even more, to the point where I swear, I could hear the thumping. I groaned again, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm never getting drunk again."

"Don't blame the alcohol for your own mistakes," he replied. "Just 'cause you don't know your limits."

I took the water from it and drank the glass in about three sips. "I need more water."

"Well, I'm not a waiter today, get it yourself."

I whined a bit. "But my head hurts so much."

"Fine, I'll go get you another glass," he said, as he started to get up. He paused for a moment and then snapped his fingers right next to my ear.

I flinched and he laughed. "That seemed unnecessary.."

"Maybe. Funny, though," he replied as he walked out the door.

I stood up, head still swirling. I leaned against the wall, bracing myself on the headboard of the bed. I have never been this hungover in my life. I guess maybe Kenny is right. Maybe I should've done more drinking in college. Truth is, it's not that I didn't want to drink, or that I was too busy studying. I just didn't have it in me to go to parties or bars. All the shit that happened here really messed with me, and I just didn't know how to deal with it, I guess.

I barely wanted to come back to South Park after graduation. I was kind of hoping I could just get a job in Denver and stay there. I'd have to get an apartment, though, and actually find a job with my oh-so-useful English degree.

I guess Kenny's been doing well, working as a waiter and drinking his way through his days off. He's probably pretty happy now that he can get alcohol at a party instead of at the bar. He told me that he was really excited to see everyone who was back from college, but even more excited because Craig got a keg for the party.

Kenny came back with more water and I drank it just as fast as the last cup. "Okay, I'm starting to feel like a real person again."

"That's good, because we have stuff to do today!" Kenny said, sounding so annoyingly sunny I wanted to throw something at him.

"Not for at least fives hours," I replied.

"Really? Because I was thinking we could go go-karting, or watch an action movie, or go to a sports game, really anything where there's just a lot of noise."

"I hate you sometimes, Ken."

He laughed. "I'm sure I deserve it. Anyway, you should probably get home. It's six in the morning, and if you get there fast enough, you can sleep for another several hours."

We said goodbye, he said he'd call me or text me later, and I left. There were several people sprawled across the couches, and some just lying on the floor. I saw Tweek with whipped cream in his hair, Clyde with sharpie on his face, and Bebe with lipstick spread across her cheeks. Must've been a fun night, I guess. Too bad I was passed out for most of it.

I got home and collapsed onto my bed, dreading having to spend my first real day back hungover and dreading who I could run into.


	2. Ghosts

I guess I woke up around two in the afternoon. It took me another half hour afterwards to actually drag myself out of bed and get dressed. The hangover seemed to be more or less gone, though everything still seemed a bit hazy. I just felt a little absent, as opposed to like I was dying.

I figured I might as well go for a walk. It seemed nice enough outside, and maybe the fresh air would help me recover from last night. I decided to head to Tweek's for coffee. God knows I could use quite a bit of caffeine right now.

I heard noises in the kitchen while I was leaving, so I guess I managed to narrowly miss talking to my parents. I felt kind of bad, avoiding them like this. I did only just get home yesterday, and almost immediately after that, I left for Kenny's. I just really don't want to have my dad ask about all the girls I had in college, and I don't want my mom to be fawning over me, telling me how glad she is that I'm finally home. I haven't really been home since I left. Despite how close I was in Denver, I haven't come back very often. I barely came back for Christmas, and I wouldn't have if I could've helped it. I was only home for five days over Christmas each year. I never came home for Thanksgiving, or Spring Break, or summers. I could always find something. A program, an opportunity, and fun vacation with friends. I even went abroad one summer.

I guess my parents think that I was just so happy in college and I had made so many friends. I have met some pretty cool people, but they're far from being the reason I don't want to come home. South Park is full of ghosts, and I'm just not ready to face them yet. I should probably get ready to, though, because I'm sure I'll see them soon.

I got to the coffee shop just in time to see my ex-girlfriend, Wendy. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

"Stan, oh my god! It's been so long, how have you been?" She came over and gave me a hug. She had to stand on her tip toes because of how much taller than her I am.

"I've been good. Just graduated college, I'm back home until I figure things out," I replied. "How about you?"

"Yeah, about the same. I just got back a few days ago," she said. She looked good. Her hair was much shorter than the last time I saw her. All throughout high school, her black hair went all the way down her back. Now, it barely grazed her shoulders. She wore make up now, too, which was new.

"Yeah, I got back yesterday," I said. "It's weird being back, you know? After everything."

Her smile faded. "Yeah. I barely ever came back for breaks. I don't know how Kenny does it, just staying here. It seems like too much."

"I guess he just got used to it." I sighed. "I'm not sure I ever could."

"Me neither," she said. There was a pause, and I really didn't know what to say.

Luckily, she just told me that she needed to go and gave me another quick hug. I was pretty relieved that she didn't want to talk or hang out or anything. I guess it sounds kind of cold, but I didn't really have an interest in reconnecting with any old high school friends.

I walked inside of the coffee shop, and Tweek was behind the counter, cleaning and organizing like a maniac. I guess the lulls are hard for him, since he can barely sit still as it is.

"Hey, Tweek," I said, in the friendliest tone I could muster up.

He still jumped. I saw him close his eyes and count to ten. I recognized that tactic of calming down from when Mr. Mackey had to talk to all of us about what happened at the school. I guess Tweek hasn't quite recovered.

He turned sharply, his hands still shaking. His hair was a mess and he had coffee stains all over his shirt. "H-hey Stan… What can I get for you?" he said, his voice straining in an effort to keep it steady.

"Just a regular coffee," I replied. "How you been, man?"

He shrugged as he took the money from me. "Pretty good. Just been here."

"What about college? I thought you went to Boulder."

He got red and turned away swiftly to fill the cup. "Didn't end up working out. Do you want room for cream?"

"No, thanks, I'm good," I said. I wasn't really sure why I said that, since I always take my coffee with sugar and cream. I guess I just didn't want to request anything from Tweek. I probably would've just said no to anything he asked._ Do you need the coffee in a cup? No, no, I'm good, don't go out of your way. _

He handed the coffee to me and tried to smile. "Have a nice day."

I could tell he wanted me to leave. He clearly wasn't in any state to see anyone from high school. Wendy and I, we could just leave and escape all of South Park. The best bet that people like Tweek and Kenny had was to just hope any of their ghosts left and never came back.

Kenny hadn't told me that Tweek still lived here. Maybe they avoided each other, in the same way Tweek wanted me to leave. Maybe they just worked in different places, kept their heads down, didn't make eye contact. Seems like the best tactic, to be honest. I would probably do the same thing if I were in their situation.

"Yeah, you too. See you around," I said. I walked out with my coffee and cursed myself for not even adding sugar to it. I hate black coffee. But I just felt so bad being in there, like I should've avoided Tweek or something. I'll just suffer through the bitterness. It's worth it for the caffeine.

At Mr. Mackey's seminar senior year, he told us there were two ways we could deal with what had happened. Either we could bond over it, over our shared experience, and help each other get through it. We could become close, and stay in touch, and truly understand each other. He told us that since we all went through it together, we were really the only ones that understood how it felt. Or we could abandon each other and escape by ourselves, and become closed off, avoiding any reminders, including people. I guess we all chose the second one.


	3. Insomnia

A week since the party, and I've managed to avoid pretty much everyone. I've been leaving before breakfast, far away job searching during the day, hiding out in my room in the evenings. My parents have barely seen me, I haven't visited my sister, haven't gotten in touch with any other high school friends... I haven't even gone to get coffee in town. I basically deal with my no-caffeine haze until I've driven at least a town over.

I think I've gotten too good at this. I've been running from this place for so long, it's practically muscle memory to avoid staying here.

When I was fourteen, and Wendy and I got back together for the thousandth time, I had trouble not hiding from her. For a week afterward, I kept ducking into classrooms, stairwells, bathrooms, every time I saw her. When I admitted to her that I was accidentally still avoiding her as a reflex, she admitted she'd been doing the same thing. I wonder if the town itself wants me to leave as much as I do.

Kenny has called me several times. And every time, I just stare at my phone until it stops ringing. I feel awful, ignoring him like this. But I just can't help it. Hanging out with him sober is hard. He brings back the ghosts I try so hard to push away. I know I have to face him at some point.

I hope when of the places I gave my resume to calls soon. I'm going crazy sitting around in this fucking place.

And as per usual, I couldn't get to sleep. Despite the fact that I'd woken up before the sun came up, driven all the way to Denver, walked around for ages, went on a run… I haven't been able to sleep well since I got back.

After hours of tossing and turning, I decided to go on a walk. I figured I could clear my head, maybe solve the restlessness. And at three in the morning, who would still be out?

The streets are so quiet at night. Too quiet, and too dark. All the houses seemed empty. At times like this, I never feel sure that the town hasn't been abandoned.

My feet automatically took me to Stark's Pond. I seem to always end up here when I'm in town, no matter where I'm intending to go. It's a reflex, an subconscious response. I went here after every break up, every fight, every horrible things. It's like a safe space. Nothing bad happens here.

"So you are still alive!" an animated and cigarette-damaged voice said behind me. "What a relief. I'm not the only one us left."

I laughed weakly. "Ken, I'm not sure if it's funny yet."

He sat down beside me on the bench. "Yeah? When will it be funny? Having to wait to be allowed to laugh is really ruining my coping method."

I sighed. "Every time I laugh, I feel like I'm a terrible person."

"I know what you mean," he replied. I couldn't look at him. I stared at the reflection of the stars in the water, watching the wind make tiny waves across the surface.

We sat for a while in silence. The only sound was an occasional rustle of the wind through the trees. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, and a ringing in my ears. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"So I guess you've been avoiding me," Kenny said, finally breaking the silence.

And as much as I wanted the silence to end, that topic wouldn't have been my first choice. "Yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get it," he let out a loud sigh, and leaned far back on the bench. "You remind me, too. It's hard to be around everyone. Especially so suddenly. I used to only have to avoid Tweek, and that was never hard."

"Yeah, I saw him the day after the party. Didn't know he was at home."

"It seems he had a breakdown at Boulder. Some sort of anxiety attack that ended especially badly. He's been back home ever since. On suicide watch for a while, on and off all kind of meds that didn't help. People tried to get me to help him out and be there for him or some shit, but…"

He trailed off, but I was barely listening anyway. I had tensed up. My mind was stuck on the word _suicide, _echoing in all the corners of my mind. I shook it away and snapped back to the present, but my hands were still shaking a little.

"Seems like that would be a little much," I replied.

"Tell me about it. As though I need someone else to take care of."

I finally managed to look at Kenny. His blond hair was sticking out in every direction, as though he'd just stepped inside after a hurricane, and there were dark purple circles under his bloodshot eyes.

"So what are you doing up at three in the morning?"

He grinned. "Oh, you know, same thing as you. Having a nice leisurely walk."

I stared at him for a moment, examining his bright and animated smile. I wondered how he could manage that. I forced out a small chuckle.

He glanced at me. "I haven't been sleeping well. Not in years."

I looked back at the pond. "I slept alright in college. When I had so many distractions, and no reminders."

"Funny how we complain about things bringing back memories, yet we always seem to end up on this same bench. Nothing says nostalgia like Stark's Pond."

I let out a genuine laugh before I caught myself. I looked down, almost ashamed. "At least they're good memories," I said softly.

"Have you been back to the school?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained.

"No," I answered, maybe too quickly. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Kenny replied. He chewed his lower lip for a moment before continuing. "I went back. Recently. They shut it down a few years ago, but they haven't quite gotten around to tearing the actual building down yet. I broke in one night. It was kind of surreal, seeing the classrooms and hallways so empty and quiet. I ran out of there after about ten minutes. I ended up running straight here. Accidentally."

"Yeah, that seems to happen with Stark's Pond," I paused. "I'm not sure I would've lasted ten minutes."

He smiled. "It's a miracle that I did."

We sat there in silence for a while, a much more comfortable silence this time. I'm not sure how long we stayed there exactly, but it was enough time for the sky to get a few shades lighter before I ended up leaving to go to bed.

But I still couldn't get to sleep.


	4. Running

I don't know how many resumes I've printed out, how many places I've handed it out to, how many hours I've spent wandering around looking for places I'd be willing to work. My standards have dropped a little. Still no calls. I've double and tripled checked the number to make sure I didn't write it down wrong.

I can't keep doing this. It's exhausting, sleeping here in South Park and spending the rest of my damned time anywhere else. I have spent far too much money on gas in the last few weeks. Without any income to speak of, it's been making a dent in what little money I have saved up. Fuck, I need a job.

I woke up and made myself coffee in the house for the first time since I'd gotten home. It was a Wednesday, so I'd assumed my parents would be at work or something. I did feel bad for avoiding them like this, but not bad enough to stop.

After drinking my coffee, I sat around staring at walls. Hiding from the town felt a lot more pathetic when I wasn't running around, constantly busy. Sitting in one place and really thinking about how fucked up it was to avoid the town like this was almost unbearable. I felt like such a coward, such a pussy.

I ended up wandering around outside around town. It was eleven in the morning, and the streets seemed mostly abandoned. I guess most people are at work. Or if they didn't have to get up for work, they probably just stayed in. Or left town for the day, like I've been doing. I imagined I wasn't the only one desperate to get out of here.

I ended up at Tweek's coffee again, and stood outside for a few minutes, just waiting. I didn't know what I was waiting for. I also didn't know why I came here. I'd already had coffee, and I really didn't want to stress Tweek out any more than he already inevitably was.

But the desire for more coffee, and to just do something other than wander, became more significant than the desire to leave Tweek alone, so I walked in.

Luckily, Tweek looked over, so I didn't have to startle him by speaking this time.

"Hey, Tweek," I said, walking up to the counter.

"Hi, Stan," he replied, managing a smile. He seemed to be doing okay today, I thought. Not as jittery.

"Could I get a coffee with room for cream?" I asked.

He nodded and grabbed a cup, filling it up. "How have you been doing? Being back, I mean."

I shrugged. "I really haven't been staying in town if I can help it. Looking for work elsewhere at the moment. How have you been? Being back so much?"

He sighed. "Some days are better than others. Here's your coffee."

I thanked him, put cream and sugar in, and left.

As I walked and drank, I thought about what he said. Some days are better than others for him, clearly, since he was practical having a panic attack that first day and he seemed relatively calm today. But I'm not sure that's true for me. It seems to be a steady not-as-good-as-it-could-be for me, every day. I don't have terrible days, but I don't have good days. It's all just a few degrees below average.

I froze, seeing where I had walked. I was standing directly in front of the school. South Park High. The windows were boarded up, for the most part, though some were just broken. Illegible graffiti was scattered along the sides. It was so quiet, so empty. I could practically hear the echoes of laughter and voices in my ears.

All I could think was that if Kenny could do it, then so could I.

I walked to one of the broken windows and climbed inside. The window went into the main downstairs hallway. I looked around and walked slowly, staring at the lockers with the chipped red paint and the empty classrooms. There were dead leaves that had gathered in piles in corners, presumably from the wind and the unblocked windows. I tried to keep my footsteps quiet, stepping as lightly as possible, but they still echoed.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped. The looked uninviting, cold, dark. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get up them without slipping, or without collapsing, or without being swallowed by them. _But if Kenny can do it, then so can I. _I took a deep breath and walked up as steadily as I could. My hands we shaking, but I didn't want to touch the railing. I didn't want to touch anything. I thought it might make it all feel more real.

When I got to the top of the stairs, the hallway looked like it would go on forever. I secretly hoped it would. I knew where I was going, which room I was going to. But my hands shook, and my heart raced, and I didn't want to get there, I just didn't.

The door was open. And as I stared into it, my heart got faster and so did my breathing. I clenched my fists, my throat felt like it was closing up, my eyes burned. I could barely breathe, I could barely see or hear. The hall felt like it was set on fire because of how hot I was getting, but the air around my felt freezing.

I ran. I ran until I ended up panting outside a liquor store. I tried to convince myself it was the caffeine. Shouldn't have had that last cup of coffee, must've made my heart rate too high. I bought a pack of cigarettes from the store- might as well, I was already there- and walked to Stark's Pond.

The bench wasn't empty. Kenny was already there.

I sat next to him and lit the first cigarette from my pack.

"I didn't know you smoked," he said with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"I don't," I replied. "Want one?"

"Don't mind if I do," he said, pulling one from my pack.

"So the school looks the same."

"You went?"

I nodded, taking a drag of my cigarette. "I was kind of hoping it would look different. Feel different."

"Yeah, me too."

"No such luck."


End file.
